


Danse Macabre

by afteriwake



Series: A Thousand Suns [11]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:46:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was not going to be her bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Danse Macabre

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after Grimmjow leaves the training area everyone else is in in “One Step Closer.” Sort of a response to the prompt “All alone, now what do we do?” from **amorphic** for these characters (because I was told it could be shippy or gen)

“She has no interest in you.”

Grimmjow stopped and scowled. If there was anything more annoying than the Kurosaki brats it was _her_. He owed her and her Fraccion his life, and he hated being in anyone’s debt. He had come to the realization that he now understood Nnoitra’s intense dislike of her much more intimately than he should. “What business is it of yours?”

“They are my friends,” Nelliel said, looking at him. She had been meditating in what he referred to as their corner of the training grounds, a small area almost completely shielded from outside view by rocks. Normally he had the place to himself, but there would be times she would intrude and make her presence known.

“Well, that’s just fucking great,” he said with a scowl. “How’d you know I just left her?”

“I didn’t,” she said, her shoulder raising barely an inch before lowering again quickly. “But you’re obsessed with her. Anyone looking can see it.”

“Good thing most of her dumb as a rock friends aren’t looking.”

“Some aren’t. But some are.” She turned away from him and picked up her sword, holding it in her hands directly in front of her eyes. “And you should be worried about those that are.”

Grimmjow watched her for a moment, then walked in front of her and looked down at her. “None of those punks scare me.”

“Ichigo beat Aizen into submission, and even though he doesn’t have that level of power anymore, you are weaker than you were the last time you fought, and he defeated you then,” she said, not looking up. He grit his teeth, then grabbed her sword from her hands. The sharp blade bit into his hand, and he ignored the blood welling to the surface. When she finally looked up, he held her sword so the blade was pressed against her neck. “I am not afraid of you.”

“Maybe you should be.”

“Maybe you should be afraid of me.” Before he could blink she was up, the sword was out of his hand, and she was behind him, breasts pressed against his back, blade across his throat. “You forget sometimes that I was the Third Espada, while you were only the Sixth Espada,” she said quietly.

“I don’t forget. I just don’t care.” He twisted, and put a hand to her throat, pushing forward until her back was slammed against one of the rocks surrounding them. She didn’t struggle, and she didn’t let go of her sword, but she didn’t use it against him. “Fight me,” he said.

“No,” she replied, her voice quiet due to his grip on her throat. “It would not be a fair fight.”

“Fighting isn’t supposed to be fair. Fighting is supposed to be dirty. When you fight you do it to survive, and you do anything to survive,” he replied, leaning in, but loosening the grip on her throat.

“I don’t fight dirty,” she said, her voice getting louder.

“Maybe you should learn,” he said, taking a step closer.

“But not from you,” she said.

He held her there for a moment, then released her in disgust. He turned his back on her, crossing his arms. “You’re such a fucking good guy. Nnoitra was smart to try and get rid of you.”

“But look who is alive and who is dead,” she pointed out.

He turned and looked at her. “I’m still alive, too. Don’t forget that.”

“I do not forget. But I also remember he…” She paused. “The phrase I heard was ‘took you down like a bitch.’ I believe that was how Madarame-san put it.”

“I‘m nobody’s bitch,” he growled.

“But you did not hold your own in a fight against him. He fought dirty and you almost died. I did not, and if I hadn’t turned back into a child I would have crushed him,” she said.

Grimmjow blinked, and then a slow grin spread on his face. “So. You really are a bloodthirsty monster under all that soft voice and calm demeanor,” he said, moving up to her.

“I do not allow anyone to hurt my friends,” she said. “Ichigo is my friend.”

“And am I your friend?” he asked, getting up close.

“You are my ally. But if you are not careful, you will become my enemy and I will cut you down and leave you to those we are trying to fight.” She stared directly at him, their noses inches apart, and did not lessen her stance.

“Good to know where I stand,” he said, a slow grin forming on his face. “I may keep away from her, I may not. But I won’t hurt her.”

“Good,” she said, though she did not relax her stance, only her grip on her sword, and even then only slightly.

He took a step back, then another, and turned to walk away. “At least, not physically,” he added quietly when he was almost outside the ring of rocks. “I promise I won’t leave a scratch on her.” He didn’t need to look back to know she’d heard him, and he got deep satisfaction from knowing that when it came down to it, she still wasn’t going to fight dirty. Because when it came time to fight her, he was going to fight so dirty he’d be covered in grime, and he’d win. He’d use her weakness against her, use it to his victory, and then go back to Hueco Mundo victorious and no longer somebody’s stupid washed-up bitch. His day would come, and it would come soon, and Arisawa would be pivotal. It would just take time.


End file.
